Early Graves

by AntiCensor

A mysterious golden light is making people and objects vanish without a trace. The two young mercenaries Grave and Joselyn take center stage against a new sorceress threat. POV characters include three OC's, Quistis, Squall, Fujin. NOT GARYSTU. Three Lemons, Three Love scenes.

4. The SeeD Inauguration

Disclaimer and A/N: I don't own it, you know it, and I know it. I also don't own 'The Limerick' the song I used for this chapter or Cheerio's. I know that Centra had no civilization in the game, but we can pretend can't we? If we couldn't we wouldn't read at all.

Xahra99: Hooray! The other Madam Seiftis has reviewed me; I now have both halves of the golden Seiftis amulet mwah ha ha! I know it's kind of pretentious to describe the game characters but I was picturing most in other outfits. And you're probably right about the 'Main Characters Must Look Cool Clause'. As for the OC's their appearances are relevant to the story, you'll see. For a reply to the words before dialogue refer to replies in the last chapter and the above A/N. And I am certainly not insulted; I'm thrilled to have your opinion of my writing and I'm even more thrilled that you think I have any kind of strength. I hope you work out those problems of yours since I'm a selfish reader of RTS, thanks for reviewing!

Juusan Ikkiuchi & Juusan Ikkiuchi: Marvelous! I have a LOYAL READER) reader) reader) now, I am happy, I feel like a successful writer now. Yes, a whiff of Seifer, you can expect more of him but they will only be whiffs. The amount of time I give each character is random, but there will be other chapters where most of the focus is on Grave and Joselyn. Thank you, thank you, I'm glad I'm giving good imagery, that's what I'm shooting for. Sorry, didn't mean to hurt ya.

Selphie Kinneas & Selphie Kinneas: Bow down to the merciless length of my chapters Bwah ha hah ha! Keep reading about Fujin, you'll get it. Glad you think Quistis is down right, and that the characters improve in the following chapters. More Seifer later, the main conflict will happen in a couple more months. I'm glad that the point about Grave at the library got across 'cause that's what it was for. Thanks about Grave, I try. As for no France in FF8, I said that because I mentioned 'French Toast', I'm just being technical.

Dark Fortuna: I agree part three is definitely an improvement on the first two. Thank you!

Scent Of The Tulip: Wow, a treasure huh? That's definitely one of the grander compliments I've received. I'm not sure how many chapters I'll have exactly; it's looking like ten plus an epilogue. I'm happy that you appreciate the details because that's like 70% of my writing. It's good that you don't mind seeing Grave and Joselyn often because that seems to be becoming my habit. I'm glad that you like it and that I'm improving, that's what I'm doing this for.

She can do anything at all, have anything she pleases

The power to change what she thinks is wrong, so what could she want with me?

But wait just one minute here I can see that she's trying to read me, suddenly I know.

She's going to change the world, but she can't change me

No she can't change me.

She has the daylight at her command; she gives the night its dreams

She can uncover your darkest fears and make you forget you feel it

But wait just one minute more I can see that she's trying to free me, suddenly I know.

She's going to change the world, but she can't change me

No she can't change me.

Suddenly I can see everything that's wrong with me, but what can I do?

I'm the only thing I really have at all.

But wait just one minute here I can see that she's trying to need me, suddenly I know.

She's going to change the world, but she can't change me

No she can't change me.

Can't Change Me by Chris Cornell.

Part Four: The SeeD Inauguration

Sleep Deprivation

The whelps landed with a disorganized orchestra of hisses and the cadets leapt from them with infinitely less grace. Grave and Joselyn in fact stumbled like string puppets handled by a drunkard. Cody was walking more evenly than anybody else, but that was because he was using half of his assembled spear as a walking stick. The sense of triumph that would be expected on their faces was counteracted by fatigue which was acceptable, now was not the time to celebrate anyway, now was the time to rest.

Although she was still angry with him, Joselyn and Grave leaned against one another for support, and together ignored Cody's suggestive comments about their physical contact. Cody shook his head, smiled, and said something like 'sooner or later,' but neither Grave or Joselyn cared to contemplate it.

The many surviving cadets along with their Instructors and PesticidEs filed out of the Hangar like ants from the suspiciously dusted crack in the sidewalk. Some carrying their weapons over their head because they claimed it was easier to walk that way. Everyone else was too tired to question that absurdity, in fact they were too tired to care they had just killed people, and therefore too tired for anything.

That was probably why the Headmaster had decided to make an announcement at that moment.

Everybody stopped in the hallway leading to the Hangar. The cadets didn't stop until their superiors made them because they were too tired to notice the Headmaster addressing them at the other end of the hall, and only after a time of rib poking and hushed nagging did they salute with their Instructors and bodyguards.

The Headmaster waved dismissively and everybody thankfully rested their arms. Small commotions ensued and only when it stopped did the Headmaster speak.

"I've come here to inform you the SeeD inauguration will be postponed," there was a minimal amount of talking amongst the youngest people before he spoke again.

"The rest of today is free to you, you may do what you like but I suggest that you sleep," grunts of agreement spouted forth quietly.

"Tomorrow will be the Garden Festival, for details about that speak with SeeD Selphie Tilmitt, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to talk about it. The day after is when the SeeD inauguration will actually take place, please report to the second floor hallway to await your graduation news," with that he turned heel and left, not waiting to be saluted as usual.

Disdainful grunts arose all around, however verbal complaints were minimal. Everybody staggered out of the Hangar, and eventually crowded around the elevator. Cody was unfortunately out of sight already, as was Instructor Trepe so Joselyn whispered to Grave about the staircase.

"You know there's a hidden door in the training center hallway, it has a staircase in it," she said happily, like someone gossiping might sound.

"Really?" he asked disbelieving, just as the first group of people entered the elevator, it was clear that it would take a while for everyone to get to the second floor.

"Yup," she said a bit proudly.

Grave grunted in approval and they lumbered together away from the crowd. Nobody seemed to notice but Cody, and both of them knew what he was thinking and cared far less.

They reached the Training Center hallway with no troubles besides the ones they already had. After they arrived Grave unhooked his arm from Joselyns waist and leaned against the wall while she searched for the indent of the door. Grave exhaled a long breath and slid ass first to the floor as he did so.

"So when did you find this thing?" he asked once he'd made himself comfortable.

"About thirteen days ago, I think it was my first day of classes, right before I went to the Special Skills class," she said running her hands along the wall opposite Grave, her efforts so far appeared fruitless and rightfully she looked exasperated.

"The other wall perhaps?" normally he might use a mocking tone with her when saying that, but again, he was far too fatigued.

"Yeah, maybe," she took his advice and ran her hands along the other wall. Grave took the moment to appreciate Joselyn while she wasn't looking, this certainly didn't mean that Cody was right about them –whatever it was he thought of them Grave wasn't entirely sure but it was definitely something impossible—but he was still a man and there were some things that a man just had to do.

She may have been bloody, and sweaty, and dirty, and haggard looking, but she was still pretty. She had a few minutes ago unzipped her jacket and her white shirt soaked with sweat was exposed –her bra much to Graves chagrin was dark blue—and there was a clear smudge of color on her stomach to be seen through the transparent garment. If Grave was not mistaken it was slightly boot shaped, he would have to question her about that.

And where in the world was Carbuncle?

"What happened to our PesticidE? I don't remember seeing her after I jumped out," he didn't miss the looks on her face, the one she made when he mentioned the bodyguard andone she made when he mentioned jumping out of the jet.

"She was a traitor, Savior and I think she was a spy," Grave looked very alarmed, trying to gather all of the information that brought.

"You need to report that," he said more urgently than he needed to.

"I know, I'll report it after the Headmaster tells us we've graduated," she said with not a hint of arrogance, she was probably too tired.

Joselyn shook her arms and tugged in her skirt.

"Do you really hate skirts that much?" he asked honestly.

"Yes," she said with a tone more urgent than the one Grave had used moments before. "I can't stand them, they're uncomfortable and I just know somebody's going to try to look up it eventually."

"Nobodies going to look up your skirt," he said dismissively, and Joselyn whirled.

"And why not?" she asked sounding insulted for some reason.

"'Cause you'd probably remove their eyes if someone did that," he said matter-of-factly, not even looking at her when he said it, Joselyn softened noticeably for no one present to notice.

"Well… that's right!" she turned back to her work at the wall and laughed triumphantly.

"Ha hah, I found it!" she pulled the door open with both arms and approached Grave again.

Grave used all of his might to slide back up the wall. He almost knocked Joselyn over when he leaned on her again, but she still had enough grace to catch herself. She slung her arm over his shoulder and he wrapped one arm around her waist again, trying much harder than Joselyn was to ignore the implications of the contact.

Joselyn flicked on the light switch and they traveled slowly up the stairs slowly. The lights flickered looking as unsure as inanimate things were capable of, which in their shared opinion –neither knew the opinion was shared—was very much like a human's uncertainty. They questioned together in silence if there could be a metaphor for that 'The average human's uncertainty is much like an aged fluorescent light' or something to that effect.

They tended to be like this when they were tired and in one another's company. Without anybody else of course, neither could remember having that with acquaintances or friends, past or present –of course this was a subject that would concern the Guardian Forces but they preferred to not think about that tax.

The merits of spending their evenings together were not something to talk about for that would defeat the purpose of those merits. When they weren't discussing something; when Grave wasn't being pleasantly egregious –pleasantly to him—when Joselyn wasn't indulging her bothersome habits, they were either relaxed or they were tired, and when they were in that condition they contemplated little things silently and simultaneously.

Anyone other than Cody and themselves would look on this behavior as an uneasy truce, but he knew as well as they did that it was a great comfort they had for each other.

That and Graves cooking were the primary reasons Joselyn chose to continue rooming with him.

The ache in Graves neck was bothering him to no end but there was a certain danger to relaxing more. Being much shorter than Joselyn and being in their position would put his head near a 'Danger Zone' as Cody liked to put it. Many a male cadet had tried their luck with Joselyn on more than one level, and luckily for them each one came out of it better than Tucker had.

The devil on Graves shoulder hit him in the head with his pitchfork points first. Clearly his mischievous side was angry with him; things had been that way for almost two weeks now. They were halfway up the stairs and Joselyn was clearly oblivious of his torment, he wanted to relax more but his shoulder devil seemed to have taken a fiery chainsaw to the back of his neck, and it certainly didn't help that his shoulder 'angel' was reading a Girl Next Door magazine again.

Grave rested his head on Joselyns shoulder, and their movement made his cheek brush very gently against her breast ever couple of seconds but Joselyn didn't seem to notice or care. Grave took a deep sigh of relief which Joselyn did notice; she only looked at him and raised the eyebrow currently partially hidden –due to his view point—but said nothing.

At the top of the stairs they found a minimal amount of generic cadets, apparently some of the students had already made it up the elevator and had been called in or denied. They were much like the ones Joselyn had imagined two weeks before she found out that Grave was Cody's room mate.

The Trepies were only set apart from the rest of the group because they were congregated together against one section of the wall nearest the archway. Other paced –many paced—like kittens in hollow television sets. Others whistled or snapped their fingers, if Joselyn wasn't mistaken there were probably more nervous habits to be seen than there were cadets, but that couldn't be right.

They found Cody with female cadet; he was talking more quickly than the other cadets, perhaps he was rejuvenated by the girl. They went unnoticed by him for the time being and sat down against the wall with him and reluctantly broke apart.

They said nothing, and although they were surrounded by others no one was speaking to them. They sat side by side in slightly different positions –they might have been sitting the same way but Joselyn was wearing her dreaded skirt. They took in the smells of fatigue and their own scents respectively, secretly as usual.

For fifteen minutes they allowed reverie and aroma to have their currently fluid attention spans, until a PesticidE with disproportionately broad shoulders stepped into the hallway and called attention to himself by coughing loudly. Everybody's heads perked up and silence ensued.

All stood in the same motion, the kicking of shoes, the snapping of fingers, the hand gestures while talking amongst one another, the downcast heads of those who lost loved ones minutes ago. All stood still, Grave and Joselyn were the only ones still sat and watched with half closed eyes.

The PesticidE coughed again –this time a genuine cough—and began calling out the names.

"Highwind… Cody Highwind please come this way." Cody hopped up with an amount of energy no human should be issued after a field exam, and marched proudly to the elevator.

"Abgestossen…" the bodyguard paused and gave an air of un-sureness for a moment "Will Joselyn Abgestossen please come this way?" She stood up slowly and looked at Grave hopefully, he enjoyed her concern for him, but he nodded so she would be on her way.

Joselyn left a bit reluctantly and only after she reached the elevator did the bodyguard speak again. He paused for a moment and scanned the hallway.

"Grave, will Grave please follow the other students," Grave smiled like a lizard might and left the other cadets to stare after him with sneers and general jealousy.

As he walked away Grave listened to them talk. There was no way of knowing if the PesticidE had tried for a note of finality with the last announcement, but it sounded to everyone as if he would be the last to graduate for the next six months.

They said their usual taunts and mocks and insult, most of which still bothered him, most insults never got old to Grave. He heard cadaver; he heard bastard, he heard lucky etc so on and so forth, but he swore that as he walked out of earshot he heard someone say 'demon;' he thought he heard it more than once.

He thought he heard it without contempt.

EG

Squall inspected the six teenagers standing in front of him. They stood upright like they had brooms inside their spines, their chins were high and they had not said a word, just like they were told. They were waiting for him to speak to them about their new occupations and to take to heart every word he spoke to them like he was the one they were designated to look up to.

He couldn't wait to quit.

He knew it was farce, these kids would break rules, they would mouth off and they would most likely make fun him just for being in charge. The often denied part of him –denied by others—wanted them to just be honest with him. There was something annoying and deceptive about their stance and their silence, the way they waited for him to act so that they could react.

But he knew that it was against protocol to do things such as smoking, slouching or chewing gum in front of the Headmaster because it was considered disrespectful. It was one of the rules he had not yet changed. But it was no matter now, soon Xu would be the Headmaster –or Headmistress as the sharp tongued feminist might put it—and she would no doubt want to keep that little rule. In fact she would probably change some of the rules backfrom the way he had changed them.

Squall chuckled, and too late realized the implications of chuckling at the new SeeDs before saying anything.

He coughed in an attempt for an etiquette recovery but he was only met with some dirty looks. But he was not insulted, he deserved them.

"Congratulations, you are the newest members of SeeD, the elite mercenary force of Garden." Their looks softened but it was most likely with boredom, Squall sympathized, he didn't like this speech either.

"As SeeD you will travel the world and serve whomever hires us. You will carry out your orders as instructed but that does not in any way mean that you will not make your own decisions," they seemed more interested at that point, as Almasy might have said

'A teenager enslaved is a teenager in rebellion.'

"You will be given orders, but if the situation ever conflicts with your mission –and it will," the three on the far right to Squall cracked small grins; it was Highwind and his friends.

"Then you are to assess the situation and change the plan as you see fit. We do not want you to defy our necessary protocol here at Garden, but at the same time we do not want you to be machines. You will make your Demonstration Videos after your graduation in two days; I wish you luck in the future." He saluted them and they saluted back, getting the most tedious formality out of the way for the day.

Next was one of the few parts of Squalls job that he enjoyed which were the private messages –as it turned out, those messages were not just Cid's whimsy, and it was really a part of the job.

He began at the far left with the most generic looking new recruits, three girls, each one from a different squad to whom he had nothing to say to really. He ventured to bet that the advice and comments he gave them would only be as memorable as the new recruits themselves.

Next was the Highwind boy, somehow more memorable than the average SeeD or Cadet, for no reason that was visual. There was only this friendliness about him that Squall hadn't seen matched by anyone, not even Selphie, and that was too frightening to think about.

"It is good that you trust your comrades as much as you do, but do not rely on them completely, remember that you're there too for a reason," the cadet nodded when he wasn't supposed to, which only made Squall favor him more.

Perhaps he was feeling too rebellious about this unwanted occupation of his, if he was praising students for doing what they weren't meant to do. Although many rules were foolish, Squall himself thought that 'Un-Requested Gestures In Front Of Headmaster' was nonsense.

Squall moved on to Miss Abgestossen. The girl whose height nearly matched Irvine's, it was actually very amusing since the height difference between men and women at the Garden favored men. If a cadet were to stand out due to height it was always a male cadet or SeeD, but this new white haired SeeD was a damned Amazon.

Squall tried to tip toe up to her ear awkwardly and could speak finally once Joselyn leaned down to him.

"You are a skilled leader, from what I understand you did a good job of working with your team, you can expect to be the captain on your first SeeD mission," the face the girl made was unreadable to Squall, it looked a touch like guilt but he decided that she was probably just tired.

Squall moved on to Grave with uncomfortably slow steps. The boy was eyeing him unpleasantly as if to say, 'I haven't forgotten that you're an asshole but I'm going to listen to you because I have to.' Squall leaned down this time, and luckily managed to successfully stifle the chuckle that came then.

"I hear that you have a nickname already after your exam, that's very impressive, most of us don't get nicknames at all," he said cryptically and chose not to mention the name, if Grave was anything like Squall –and Squall thought that he was—he would rather hear it from one of his friends.

The new SeeD looks dubious but says nothing, and before they can salute him once more he cuts them off. It had become like a game to Squall, how many salutes can you deny in one day? Receive five or less and you will win a boring lecture from Xu.

"You are all dismissed," he said and turned away from the students.

Squall expected the new SeeDs to disperse immediately but the Amazon Joselyn stayed put. She spoke briefly with her team mates who scoffed and snicker then left after the three generic girls, after a moment he was alone with the new SeeD.

She said nothing at first, and Squall raised an eyebrow in question to cue her. The girl continued to stand there for a moment and just before Squall decided he would speak so she would spit it out she spoke.

"I would like to make a request sir," she said dutifully, and said nothing more.

"What is that Miss Abgestossen?" He asked disinterested, but still paid the SeeD her attention.

"I would like a graduation uniform with a pair of pants if you please," She said seriously, and Squall almost laughed.

Instead he smiled; they had a tomboy on their hands it seemed.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable, I'll have a replacement delievered to your room soon." He said politely and leaned against his desk; he pressed the intercom button and waited for a moment before the fuzz cleared up and his voice would be heard clearly.

"Would Instructor Trepe please report to the Headmaster office, I repeat would Instructor Trepe please report to my office as soon as is convenient?" he released the intercom button and looked to the SeeD again.

He didn't miss her grin. It was tight with arrogance and Squall quickly regretted calling Quistis for the errand. The sinister interest on the girls face was all too familiar. But his mind mocked him 'too late' so he let it rest. Surely Quistis could deal with this girl, and hopefully she wouldn't be insulted by this gopher mission.

"Is that all?" he asked tiredly.

"No actually," she said and straightened upon her reminder.

"I have something to report." She said and paused, Squall shot her an annoyed look and gestured for her to continue.

"PesticidE Carbuncle was a traitor, she tried to kill me." She paused once again at the alarmed face Squall made. "That isn't all sir. During out combat Carbuncles sword…" she stopped another moment looking a loss for words.

"Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"It disappeared sir, it sparked a bit and then there was a flash, then the weapon was gone," she said slowly, clearly the girl was still taking it in herself.

"I see," he said looking and sounding as bothered as he was. "Care to elaborate on this SeeD Abgestossen?" he asked dubiously, feeling something akin to awkwardness in the air, lighter, but still akin.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Headmaster," she said regretfully.

"Is that all?" he asked and rubbed the bridge of his nose in hopes of distracting himself from the confusion.

"No sir," she said and didn't miss the Headmasters insulting sigh, neither did she miss a bit before she continued. "I was rescued by PesticidE Savior, if you want further elaboration you should speak with him." She said professionally and if Squall was not mistaken she also began to stand stiffer.

Squall sighed again and ruffled his hair. This was very serious, a traitor among the bodyguards would not reflect well in the eyes of the students and certainly not certain authority figures to B-Garden –some had not taken a liking to the PesticidE's since their identities were kept secret and few who applied were turned down. It was theorized that some were criminals, and this incident would likely push the bodyguards in the direction of elimination.

Squall was reminded of the SeeDs presence when she coughed loudly. He elevated his head and quietly took in the annoyed look on the girls face. He coughed himself and straightened his hair, he continued to rearrange himself in the fashion for a few moments and spoke again.

"Thank you for that report, it will be a great help to us." It will also be a great pain.

"Thank you and you are welcome Headmaster," she said appreciatively and turned her heel and left his office, not giving him a chance to say they were done or to reply.

Squall walked around his desk and sat back down. The new SeeD was already out of sight once he sat down, and soon he heard the relieving ding of the elevator. Immediately he considered taking a quick nap on his desk again but he didn't think that he could get away with it. Not with Xu suspiciously wandering around the area, sniffing around for his unregistered breaks like a dog sniffing out cocaine.

And certainly not with Quistis coming to his office in a few minutes, being sisterly with him like she was and with her new found errand she would likely be inclined to rat him out to Xu, or worse, Rinoa. His bride was convinced that he was getting enough sleep considering how much of it he had been doing, but that was no way to judge how much sleep somebody needed Squall had learned.

Squall chose not to work while nobody was looking, rare were these opportunities, all the better to quit, surely Xu had it in her to do what he literally fell asleep doing himself so often.

Eventually Squall left his desk. He went into the break room not far from his so called office, nobody was there. Luckily the coffee pot was full of the bitter liquid, and made cold by the harsh air conditioning. He selected the one cup that had not been placed there by Selphie –most of the mugs bore images of pink sparkles or cute things, and one that Squall particularly abhorred had a clumsily painted image of Laguna's face of it, needless to say Selphie had made that one herself.

Normally Squall took his coffee with some cream and sugar but he didn't think of it, too tired, tired like the cadets. His slow pace had turned a three minute walk into a fifteen minute trek, his steps were turtle like, and that for some reason reminded him of Selphie too. He seemed to be reminded of her often lately.

It was probably because he'd been thinking a lot about Laguna as of late as well.

Squall smelled what scent there was to smell of the cold upper, for some reason preferring the smell of coffee when it was cold. He rounded his desk and sat down in the leather chair of his that was now becoming more of a bother than leisure, yet another bolt popped off but the chair held. Squall got back to work immediately and the moment he thought he'd doze off; he poured the coffee directly onto his head.

EG

Quistis rounded the elevator in front of Squalls 'office' and wriggled her nose at the smell of cold coffee. Squall didn't seem to notice that she was there; in fact he looked suspiciously engrossed in his work. Quistis reached his desk and tapped the mahogany twice. Squall looked up and quickly which shook off numerous droplets of something dark and cold.

Quistis wiped a droplet of the substance off of the desk and sniffed it, she eyed it looking a tad alarmed and licked it off of her glove. She looked at Squall like he had become an animated musical instrument or something to that effect.

"Squall why is there cold coffee on your head?"

"I was getting tired," he replied normally, like it was an everyday habit like brushing ones own teeth.

Quistis remained perplexed and wisely chose to swerve and avoid the subject.

"…um, you called me for something?" she asked finally touching on something else.

"Oh, yes. You don't need to sit down this will be quick." Quistis only nodded, and absently followed the drops of coffee when Squall didn't speak; they struck his white sleeves and splattered a bit surrounding the large stains with smaller specks.

"I want you to clear your schedule two days from now before the SeeD inauguration. It's about your job." Her face contorted painfully but luckily Squall was not looking, she tried to force her unconcerned mask back on to her face when Squall looked up and noticed her distress.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. In fact I think you'll be pleased," he showed her a rare smile and she softened.

She returned the smile with a questioning glance, not only for the smile but also for the implication. She was about to say something but too soon Squall interrupted her.

"Oh, and could you deliver a different graduation uniform to SeeD Abgestossen's cadet dorm? She's apparently a skirt hater," he asked feigning casualness and humor, but Quistis didn't miss the twinge of hope in his voice.

She frowned, she was not interested in running a little errand like this but she knew with dour certainty that Squall would have a bad excuse ready and she would not want to refuse. Always going soft on Squall, it seemed that she couldn't help herself in that department.

"Fine, I need to talk to her anyway," she half lied.

"Good, you know where the Graduation Uniforms are kept so that's all," he said feigning a Cid like kindness and kept a level stare with her that would no doubt last until she chose to leave.

"I'll see you later Squall," she said with genuine thoughtfulness and left the office, she rounded the pilot's elevator to the normal elevator and tried entering too quickly for the doors.

Quistis chose not to reason why Squall would ask her to do this but she could only assume that it was because he wanted to see her anyway. The news about her job would no doubt weigh closely on her mind.

It would please her he said. Quistis was dubious, she wasn't sure if Squall was too grand a judge of what made her happy. In fact she was pleased with her job as it was. It couldn't be an increase in work load or pay. Because her work load was at its maximum and her pay would only increase if her workload corresponded accordingly.

Admittedly a full fledged promotion would be disappointing as well, in its own pleasing sort of way. Quistis was not one to complain about a bigger paycheck but her heart was in teaching. She decided that anything concerning politics she would abruptly turn down, politics was sleep inducing, and personally she didn't feel she was any kind of bloodsucker so politics was definitely out of the question.

She exited the elevator and rushed as quickly as her walk could take her to the supplies room. The supplies room was located by a hidden door in the Training Center hallway next to the secret staircase. Once upon a time it was located in the back room of the Infirmary where most medical supplies were currently stored. But there had been trouble with theft and inconvenience for the Doctor and other such things, so a new room was built in the Training Center hall.

It was inevitable for someone to find it eventually. Adolescents and children were extremely curious animals by nature, and even the most hidden things could be proved inadequately concealed.

Quistis arrived in the designated hallway and found the hidden stairway was just that. The door to the stairway was cracked open carelessly. She clopped furiously on the verge of sprinting and swung open the door once she reached it. The lights were still on and the door at the top was closed securely unlike its counterpart beside her.

Quistis only sighed, her mild fury subsided and she reasoned that she had no way of knowing who used the door. It was only a meek offence after all; this was what they got for not designating PesticidEs to the Training Center entryway she supposed.

Quistis flicked off the lights and sealed the door and without a second thought threw open the supplies room door. Leaving it open she allowed the carelessness of the mysterious students carelessness take her as well. There would be no difference she thought.

Inside the supply room was surprisingly large. Nobody ever seemed to think what took up the spaces in the walls in between B-Gardens different areas. Most were currently empty space, and if Quistis wasn't mistaken there were plans to fill the other areas, most likely with more PesticidE rooms.

Quistis located the Graduation uniforms and selected the largest pants outfit she could find and left quickly. She shut the door and shifted her eyes cautiously, feeling almost fugitive like for the students negligence –if indeed it had been a student, surely a staff member wouldn't leave the door cracked or the lights on carelessly.

After some exaggerated clopping round the elevator pillar and through the halls, and a few minutes of routine agile Treppie dodging, Quistis found Grave and Joselyns cadet dorm. She rapped the door and was only greeted by loud sounds from inside the room. She was not answered so she rapped much harder and after a few seconds Joselyns half dressed body answered. Quistis spoke before Joselyn could.

"Here is the new uniform you requested, I can take the other one now if you like," she said quickly, doing her best to leave no room for sarcasm or hostility in their exchange.

"Um, sure, uh," she giggled hysterically for a moment but recovered quickly. "Come in?" she asked and held her breath, apparently she was having trouble using full sentences.

The girl could be as bad as Fujin sometimes.

"Sure." Quistis said uncertainly and stepped in after Joselyn who promptly went into her room.

Quistis looked to Grave who was sitting at the table with his feet propped up with a large book in his hands. He was giggling and looked uncharacteristically happy. Quistis beamed unnoticed and had to wonder what had both of her former students sharing so cheerfully. Grave spoke before she asked.

"There was a young squaw of Wohunt,

Who possessed a collapsible cunt.

It had many odd uses,

Produced no papooses,

And fitted both giant and runt," all at once Grave snickered, Joselyn giggled girlishly from her room and Quistis went stiff with embarrassment.

Grave glanced up from the book and unpredictably his grin remained in place. Apparently the boy had no shame to speak of, had Quistis been caught reading that in front of one of her teachers when she had been a student she would have seen detention faster than even Seifer normally had.

As Joselyn re-entered the room and handed Quistis the unopened cellophane package Quistis opened her mouth to speak but Grave beat her to it. He looked back at the book and Joselyn watched him expectantly.

"There was a young monk from Dundee

Who hung a nun's cunt in a tree.

He grabbed her fair ass

And performed a high mass

That even the Pope came to see." Graves face contorted in amusement and he had to set the book on the table for fear of dropping it.

Next to Quistis Joselyn was leaning on her knees. She couldn't see her face but she guessed that her face looked no different from Graves for their laughter sounded awfully similar –similar in the way of mirth rather than accent. This laughter for a moment had Quistis' attention. Normally when she heard Grave laugh it was not like this, more a clicking sound in fact, but now he sounded warm and… happy.

Her compassionate smile was mistaken as a filthy one due to the erotic words polluting the air. Perhaps polluting was the wrong word, for the room mates seemed to be thriving on it and nothing thrived on pollution but rot.

"Grave what on Gaia are you reading?" she asked hurriedly so as not to be interrupted again and made her way quickly to the table, she flipped the book to her end and read the cover.

"The Limerick, 'This is the largest collection of limericks ever published, erotic or otherwise. Of the 1700 printed here, none are otherwise,'" her tone altered from interest to something that sounded like amused disinterest and rolled her eyes; she flipped the book back to Grave and made her way to the door.

Grave opened the book again and before he could belt out another one Quistis pivoted on her heel and spoke.

"I almost forgot I need to inform you two that you will be rooming together in your SeeD apartment if that's okay with you," she said abruptly swiftly having their attention.

They simultaneously looked to Quistis, to each other, then to Quistis again. They looked equally dubious for a few moments

"I wouldn't mind sleeping on a couch," said Grave before he looked to Joselyn who shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't mind," she said untroubled, seeming to Quistis like she was only caught up in the moment.

Quistis said nothing about this though which was a touch selfish. Ideally she would interview them a bit to make sure they really wantedto continue rooming together to avoid possible outbursts in the future. And with these two an outburst would likely end disastrous.

Quistis was too tired to care however.

EG

"Is that all Instructor?" asks Joselyn who is clearly eager to get my other friends offending presence out of our room and not bothering to hide it.

Quistis' face goes sour quickly and she speaks again as if to spite Joselyn.

"Not quite SeeD Abgestossen," she says with startling accuracy that visibly impresses even Joselyn, as her friend I of course can't let her live that down, I'll need to make mockery plans for her later.

"Instead of moving in tonight you will move to your SeeD quarters after the Graduation ceremony two nights from now," she said with no amount of hearable spite, although surely Joselyn has no trouble imagining it.

I can tell that she's going to say something very offending to Instructor so I take this moment to interrupt her instead.

"This is my favorite one." I say pretending to ignore their little battle and they take after me in that manner, looking at me expectantly, even Quistis who doesn't seem altogether entertained like Joselyn and I.

"There was a young lady from Teal,

who was raped in the lake by an eel.

One morning at dawn

She gave birth to a prawn,

Two crabs, and a small baby seal," Joselyn absolutely spews laughter f and Quistis cracks a genuine smile.

I knew it would, the Zoophily section of this book would get to the most frigid of people. And Quistis isn't really frigid anyway.

"Well if that's all I'll be on my way," says Quistis and she immediately steps out the door leaving no room for being drawn in.

"Finally," Joselyn says with breathy finality, the poor girl is bothered by the very notion of Quistis.

"Hey," she says quietly for my attention, "Could you quit reading that for a while, I want to sleep now and I know if you keep reading that I'll stay awake," she says with a tone that in my opinion mocks me but at the same time… I don't know.

"Fine," I say more begrudgingly than I mean to and flip the book onto the table.

'The Limerick' surprisingly is actually a book from B-Gardens library; needless to say I was alarmed. The only thing remotely carnal in that library is the sex education text and graphic books, and even those don't conjure up the same imagery as The Limerick.

I do believe that I've found my own personal bible.

"G'night," she says happily and starts to her bed but she stops a moment.

She pivots in my direction and looks very unsure about something. Her index finger is on her lips and her eyes are down cast. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and with apparent new found confidence strides to the table. She sits beside my feet and looks at me seriously. I try to match her look but I can't tell if I am, she is stone faced and her slivers of eyebrows are unwavering.

"I want you to tell me about what happened today," I raise my eyebrow and she meets that with the same look.

"What are you talking about?" she moves finally, only her eyes but at least she's moving, she seemed to be looking at my forehead or something.

"Your face didn't look normal, and it changed back when you smelled me," she pauses, and thankfully moves her face a bit more. "That's another thing, why were you smelling me?" she asks accusingly and I find my lungs paralyzed for a moment.

I don't know what she's talking about, but I need to humor her somehow.

"Get some rest, we'll talk about it tomorrow sometime," that seems to satisfy her.

Her face does not soften entirely but it's a good start. She sits up, and I don't miss the flash of her butt briefly peering out of the shorts she's changed in to. She isn't eyeing me anymore and I can only hope she didn't notice that. She stops in front of her door again and I feel like my lungs are about to collapse any moment now.

"G'night again Grave," she says with sweet, sweet smile, sweet enough to lick off.

She's plotting something, I know it.

Black Blood Vessel

… The following day…

"So what's happening today again?" Joselyn said from the bathroom, her mouth muffled by toothpaste and unnecessarily swirled bristles.

"The Garden Festival," Grave answered distractedly for the second time that morning, clearly uninterested in repeating the conversation.

"What's that, like a party or something?" she asked then spat in the sink.

Joselyn swiped a piece of toilet paper from the roll and proceeded to wipe off the toothpaste spit from the mirror. Grave didn't answer so she threw the waste away and strode in to the match box they called their living room.

"Hey," she said and tapped the top of his head.

He was sitting down at the table and reading again, he turned his head upside down to look at her. She didn't ask for a moment, and took in the rather innocent look of his position. He was like a kid lying upside down on the couch who ate cereal at the same time, watching the television and ignoring the wonders of physics.

"I said 'is that like a party or something?'" she finished the repeat slowly like she was trying to teach an autistic how appropriately throw a Frisbee.

"Kinda, I don't know what they do exactly because I never go," he answered and instantly went back to reading, surprisingly undaunted by the blood that must have rushed back into his head.

"Why not?" she asked curiously and started rubbing his shoulders casually.

Most often she could do this to coax him into something. She would get him to cook for her breakfast even though he wanted to sleep instead, or to help her with homework even if he had already told her to do it herself.

If she was lucky she could have him say something he was reluctant to voice. But this did not seem to be one of those times, he was not relaxing nor was he shrugging off his jacket so she could work his shoulders more effectively. He was too distracted by his reading material this morning.

The massaging had failed her, which left her with only one other weapon.

"'Cause it's like a party or something, and I don't get invited to parties," he said simply and turned the page.

"But you are invited to this one, you're a student here and all of the students are invited," she said reasonably and continued to work his shoulders with decreasing effort, now giving up on her plans to coax him.

Grave didn't answer and she took that as her cue to drop it. She could always convince him to go the public celebration later. She was peering over his shoulder at the book not really caring what he was reading. He wasn't laughing so it was clearly not The Limerick. She continued to idly rub his shoulders but still he showed no appreciation.

Joselyn rounded the table and sat beside his feet. Being in the same position as they were last night she was reminded about the talk she wanted to have with him. She tapped his exposed toe playfully. He did not respond. She poked the arch of his foot which recoiled, but he continued reading, apparently ignoring her for hope she wouldn't take the next step.

Joselyn grinned like a Bomb, his hopes would be shattered like the suicidal flesh of the monster she was impersonating.

Joselyn tickled Graves foot which he recoiled completely and relocated under the table. She waited for a moment, like a snake with a shark's grin waiting to strike. She began to tickle his other foot which found a home under the table much sooner than its twin had.

Grave continued to read and ignore her but she saw a hint of a smile at the corners of those violet lips of his. She had him; it was time for the full fledged attack.

He would probably hate her for the rest of the day but it would be worth it.

Grave licked his finger and turned the page once again; the normally drowned out ticking of the clock ticked every half second being defective, Grave lowered the book in his lap a bit and Joselyn chose that moment to strike.

Without so much as a breath of warning Joselyn lunged into Grave palms first and had him on the floor before he could scan another word. The chair had toppled over his hip and he yelped but she refused to yield her attack. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and rolled them away from the table. At some point she stopped rolling and straddled him, she had her hands under his shirt in no amount of detectable time and was tickling him mercilessly.

He had no choice in the matter; he was at her non-existent mercy.

"Mwah ha hah ha!" she bellowed like a villain.

"Damn it Joselyn!" he bellowed with far less fervor than he like due to the exhausting laughter his lungs were being put through.

Joselyn was going to keep this a secret. As long as she was the only person who knew about Graves weakness then she could be privileged to enjoy it. Besides, if word got out that Balambs Demon was ticklish he'd never hear the end of it from his offenders, and Joselyn wanted to be the only person to torment him.

Grave flailed under her uselessly and laughed like a possessed hyena against his will, he flailed around and tried to roll out from under her at one point but only managed for her to straddle one hip so he rolled back to the original position. Unbeknownst to Joselyn he was perfectly capable of throwing her off but her position over him made him reluctant to remove her.

After what seemed like a half hour –and it was—Joselyn stopped torturing Grave and fell against him as though exhausted from cumming. They were breathing hard –Grave particularly, and it took all of his might to lift one arm and wipe the sweat from his brows.

After they caught their respective breaths Joselyn propped her elbows on either side of his head so she could look him in the eye. He looked up to her with hooded eyes –so as to avoid a proper pupil inspection—and to Joselyn looked faintly delirious. After a few more moments their labored breathing became synchronized, and moments after that it relaxed.

"Now that I have your attention…" she began between hard breaths but stopped once she noticed it was an altogether different kind of attention.

"My eyes are up here Grave," she said darkly and was further annoyed when he didn't look up.

"I know that," he said matter-of-factly and grinned lecherously, Joselyn gaped.

"You're horrible," she said and spared one arm to cover his eyes.

"And you're wearing a low collar shirt for once," he said approvingly, his horny grin never wavering, Joselyns's eyes went wide.

"You're really horrible!" she said and struck him on the nose before covering his eyes up again. "It must be that Limerick book, you're normally not this perverted," she said the last part absently, sounding annoyed yet playful.

Before he could say anything more she brought up her originally intended subject.

"I want to have that talk now," she said seriously, and worried a bit when those lips finally fell.

He didn't say anything for a long time; he only increased his breathing perhaps to feel the sensation of their torsos more effectively. He spoke finally when Joselyn decided to elaborate.

"What talk?" he asked knowing full well what she meant.

"You know," she said quietly, holding back her accusatory tone. "There was something wrong with your face during the exam, and after you took a whiff of my neck you changed back." Grave said nothing, "I want to know more about you Grave, don't keep things like this from me." She asked with the same tone, deliberately quelling the longing in her voice.

Still Grave was silent, his voice anyway. He continued to breathe heavily from the tickling not long ago. Perhaps he was relishing the remnant of the pleasant activity to distract himself from the bothersome talk it had segued into.

It was bothersome, not uncomfortable, but he was not yet comfortable with it. So he predictably avoided it.

Obviously reluctant Grave slid out from under Joselyn with his eyes closed and immediately he regretted it. He was cold now and he felt a distinct void over his skin where her body had been.

Grave allowed his eyes to open just enough to look at her. She hadn't moved away so now she was lying on the floor on her belly with her arms under her chin. After two weeks of rooming together Grave knew when something was wrong with her. She would always keep her troubles from him and he granted her the same courtesy. But until then there had not been a time when she looked so defeated, so much so she wasn't trying to hide it.

Yet another pang of guilt clenched in his stomach, this one was just behind his belly button. It was sometimes painful but always fascinating the affects Joselyn had on him, and as human as he was –and therefore disliking pain—the painful affects were always the most fascinating.

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about it with her; it was just that he didn't know the answer. He didn't know why the smell of blood did that to him. He didn't know why the smell on her neck made it stop. He did however know a few details but knowing Joselyn what little information he had would not satisfy her. He would have to ask Quistis or the good doctor Heartilly –or Leonhart, he wasn't sure exactly what her last name was—to get the details.

It was fuzzy those details about his condition, but it was clear to him that it was genetic. Even if there were magical properties at work as well it had to be fundamentally genetic.

Minutes had passed during his reverie and neither had budged from their positions. Grave wasn't sure how to say it, so he took the blunt, direct path and hoped for the best.

"I don't know exactly." She perked her head to look at his face when he said that, and already her mood had visibly lightened.

"I'll find out soon, and if you really want to know then I'll tell you everything," he said quietly but loud enough for her to make it out.

She sat up and upon exterior inspection she did not look pleased. But she didn't look depressed anymore. She was tepid emotionally from the look of things. The air about her had shifted from angst ridden teenager to recovered damage.

She shifted then moved a bit clumsily on her fists and knees to him. He didn't move, he never moved when she touched him or even made a move to touch him, for irrational concern that she wouldn't do it if he shifted even a little bit.

Three strides after those thoughts she was in front of him –clearly unconcerned about his interest in her cleavage—and gave him a firm kiss on his forehead. She kneeled in front him them, mirroring his position and smiled on the inside with the knowledge that he was stunned for speech.

"Alright," she said simply and smirked knowingly for him.

She chose not to speak for a few more moments and just admired her handiwork, that being the furious blush on his fair, fair skin. She purposefully fell over sideways and retrieved the book he'd been reading. She scanned the cover for a title and frowned when all she saw was an illustration of three figures, they were obviously GF's, and she only recognized one.

"It's about murals in the Shumi Village," he said clarifying her obvious curiosity.

The face Joselyn made when she was curious was humorously like the face she made when frustrated he noted.

"I'm reading it mostly for the parts about Salamander," he admitted, trying to lighten the mood.

Joselyn would let him do it. Although the tension between them could be most pleasant in its own morbid way, she agreed silently that a completely change of subject was a good idea.

"Do you now if Maduin is-"

"Page 57." He said with a friendly smile, he knew what she was going to ask before she even picked up the book.

Joselyn ignored the fact the Grave just interrupted her and eagerly flipped the page Grave had advised. Once she found the piece about Maduin she sat up and spoke random segments of the piece aloud.

"Maduin is depicted most often as a passive creature, when not in battle he is seen wrapped in blue cloth and holding a bowl of milk... the most notable detail about Maduins murals is that he is never alone, most often with a human woman who is theorized to be his wife, and nearly as often with another Guardian Force called Terra..." she read happily sounding interested until she thought of something and she shot a worried look to Grave.

EG

"I'm sorry; I made you lose your place." I crack a grin and laugh quietly, for a moment I thought she was concerned about something serious.

"I was on Page 109," I said assuredly and she relaxes again.

Instead of giving the book back to me Joselyn scoots her way next to me on the floor and sets the book down in front of us. The hardcover hits the carpet resulting in a quiet thump and the pages annoyingly bounce like little springs for a few seconds and threaten to cost us my –our—place again. We each place a hand on one page. I try at first to read quietly but Joselyn insists on continuing to read aloud, her pretty voice –amazingly undamaged by cigarette smoke—is most distracting and after a few minutes of futility I give up and allow her to read to me.

"-the texts say that Salamander was the mischievous one of the group. He was the strategist of always half-baked, but often successful schemes. He was also a thief in the oldest of records, and was a tactful but foolish creature until a mural depicting his first meeting with the Guardian Force Lich who halted a pilfering and took him prisoner. Much like other Guardian Forces such as Maduin and his family, the trio is rarely seen apart after their initial encounters with one another." She finishes with satisfied finality that I would see as false interest if I didn't know her so well.

"Who was the other one again?" I blenched and must look somehow cute to her because she smiles and makes a face like there's something in her stomach.

She turns the page back and scans the paragraph she had started with.

"Terrato, he's an earth elemental Wyrm," she informed me and as soon as the words leave that mouth she regards me again as if to ask if I have any other questions –which I don't because I plan on finishing the book myself later.

This is a ridiculous gesture since I can just read the book myself whenever I want to, but Joselyn seems inclined to help me even if it is ridiculous to me. It is my conviction that this girl just likes to be in charge, she had taken to leadership yesterday quickly enough.

Perhaps there is something bigger she has in mind, some enormous vex of mine she might have perceived in our time together. Because this is nothing, but starting small seems to be her way of doing things. Challenging things that is, helping me is in fact a fish too big to fry; one would likely need to bring an entire pool to a high roiling boil to cook such a big fucker.

It alarms me sometimes how nice she is to me. I watch her sometimes, she never sees me when I do it -in fact it borders on stalking most likely but I don't let that bother me—I watch her when she's with other students, they way she interacts with them, they way she learns and helps out the Garden Festival build the stage for the upcoming band event that she is somehow uninformed of. She acts normal with everyone and is very nice to most people much the same way Cody is.

Cody is a great friend and I secretly consider him a blessing, but Cody has other friends to tend to and therefore not all of his time can be spent with me –even less now than before since the roommate exchange. Quistis has been a big help to me from the beginning and I did the same for her in return, but that was all we are to each other even though our teacher student relationship is closer than most others.

But Joselyn has all the time in the world for me –we of course had classes apart when we were still cadets and will no doubt have missions apart from each other in the future—she treats me like a person like Cody and Quistis do, but more so. They treat me like a person who needs a friend, and a person who needs to learn and find a place in society. Joselyn treats me like a person who needs to laugh, be touched –and apparently tickled on occasion, but only on occasion, this is not the sort of thing that should ever get out of hand—she does more than make me feel like a person, she makes me… happy.

Apparently my first impression wasn't a lasting one.

To answer her unspoken question I take the book and stand up. I set the book back down on the table. I don't turn around but I can imagine what her expression is like because she hasn't stood up yet. I take a deep breath and swear mentally after I realize that she heard that and turn around. She looks only mildly disappointed, and even that disappears after I help her up.

Before I have the chance to look into her only exposed eye I say something that I know will throw her into a rare girlish fit.

"Black Blood Vessel is playing at the Garden Festival." I say as quickly as my tongue will move and mentally prepare myself yet again, but for something far louder.

At first she doesn't make a sound, the defective clock ticks but to me it sounds like it is quieting, like a squawking bird flying from an oncoming tornado.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !"

I want to hold my ears but she has a death grip on each of my arms. Joselyn is hopping up and down like a wobbling spring. Although my arms hurt a little bit now it's a small price to pay to see this spectacular show. There is literally nothing else on this planet that could make Joselyn behave so air headed and preppy, which is awfully ironic since Black Blood Vessel fans are typically anything but.

She's flailing her braids from side to side now and seems completely out of tune with reality, I take this opportunity and pull my arms out of her grips. She begins to hop around in circles and begins to start screaming a different vowel.

Personally I feel nothing for our neighbors, we'll be moving out in two days anyway.

After her screaming gets too annoying –and before I hear footsteps in the corridor outside, although I can't imagine how I'd hear anything over this woman—I stride to the other side of the room and clamp one hand over her mouth. She freezes, and then she blushes very, very noticeably.

"I get it, you like them," I say as deadpan as I can manage, it's a pity I can't keep my smile just as neutral.

She shoots me a friendly glare and removes my hand from her mouth; instead she holds it for possible fear of my muting her again.

"Right, well…" She pauses and looks rather embarrassed, I can tell that she's trying to recover her dignity but I think that's long gone for the time being. "So that's what's happening."

"It is," I say leading her to continue, I am enjoying this far too much.

"So if you know what's happening why aren't you going? Don't you like them?" that question takes me by surprise and I do my best not to show it.

"I suppose I do, why does that matter?" I see from the way her facial expression changes that I just asked one of the stupider questions I could have asked.

"They're like the best band in the world! Of course it matters!"

I try not to laugh, she'll see it as more disrespect to the band than her, and she never considers anything I say to her disrespectful, and if she does she hides it well. She seems to just brush my sarcasm off like dust on her jacket the moment it collects there.

"I don't listen to them much," I shrug, "I don't see anything wrong with missing the show," her eyes prove they can widen further and I'm almost surprised.

"But a live concert is so much better than listening on a CD player!" she says more passionately than I think she should. "Just come to the show alright? Do it for me," she says with low brows and an even lower smile.

Now she's just playing dirty. Joselyn knows that I'll do it if she says that, she's being so unfair. Those words actually hold some power over me now.

It's because she's never said them to me.

I think she was saving them, like special ammunition for a particularly hard shelled target.

'Do it for me,' she says.

"Fine," she brightens and releases my hand which I allow to swing by its socket, "I'll listen to three songs but then I leave," her face instantly falls back to its original shape.

"Come on," she says with not a drop of diplomacy. "Three songs? THREE? The show starts at like," she looked at the clock like it could be helpful. "Seven, it's going to be a long show so they're bound to play way more than three songs," she shifts between outraged to reasonable so quickly I get distracted by it and fail to answer her.

She waves a hand in front of me to return me from reverie. After I'm snapped back to her attention I examine the look of hope she's showing me. I know it's fake, we're only talking about an Industrial concert here.

Aren't we?

EG

Seven hours later Grave and Joselyn were inside –near the exit—of the SeeD grand ballroom which had been turned into a makeshift concert hall. Every single cadet as well as certain SeeDs, bodyguards and even a few Instructors were present. In one corner there was a small bar which had presumably materialized overnight since nobody recognized it.

The crowd was enormous. In fact it wasn't meant to hold this amount of people, even for a SeeD inauguration that would be held the following day. It could not be visitors because such people were no longer permitted because of the conflict between B-Garden and the Galbadian army. It could only be something like, perhaps, people showing up who normally wouldn't at other Garden events. SeeD inaugurations were always big but left much more room than this. That implied that most people didn't show up, probably cadets who failed the exam, or cadets in mourning, those were the most likely reasons.

Most of the cadets displayed their fandom with hair dye and make up and… other accessories. 'Nobody looks normal' was the way Grave might have put it, but regardless of if it was Grave speaking or another person other than the lead vocalist, she wouldn't hear them. Joselyn was completely blind to all but the stage.

Because she was surrounded by people who weren't Grave, Joselyn was doing a much better job of relaxing her excitement than she had earlier in the day. She was still rather embarrassed about it and was sure that Grave would make sure she wouldn't forget about it. It was alright, Joselyn didn't really mind it when Grave tormented her like that. In fact it was a lot like they way she tickled him. Joselyn was not physically ticklish –and Grave was just a tad disappointed when he discovered that—but Grave had other methods of tormenting her pleasantly, and his method was in his speech.

Next to Joselyn Grave looked like he was suspicious, or wary of something. She noticed this miraculously during one of her moments of looking away from the stage. He was frowning so much she saw wrinkles on his face; his hands had been plunged inside his jeans pockets and seemed to want to dig deeper, and to top it all off he was shifty eyed like some escaped convict in a public venue. Something was obviously vexing him.

Joselyn shrugged and blinked, surely the music would put him in a better mood, after he started listening he'd definitely want to listen to more than three songs she thought.

She allowed herself to be a bit giddy when the lights on the walls and the ceiling dimmed and the lights on the stage lit open shining shafts of deep purple and bright red. They did not move but some crossed together and created another color darker than you could imagine light could be.

The Drummer was the one to step on stage first. The burst of applause that would not technically die down until the end of the night came forth to the stage and he basked in it, but briefly, he knew who the applause was really for. Next came the Bassist who behaved just as the drummer had before finding his instrument and slinging it over his shoulder.

The entries continued in that fashion with the Pianist and the Guitarist until the Singer stalked on to the stage. That was when the crowd was particularly loud, breasts threatened to spill from shirts and jackets for the band members, and judging by the wails certain lungs were inclined to do the same.

The Singer was shorter than the other members of the group, unlike the others who were scantily clad in leather and spikes he was draped in a long trench coat that swept the floor behind him like a single layered wedding gown, and his flat black hair was brushed obviously over the right side of his face. It did not cover him attractively like Joselyns hair did for her, but was longer and therefore covered him a great deal more.

He stopped at the mic stand which he clutched and then he stopped differently. The applause died down as the audience took the bands signal to quiet down so they could play. Predictably one audience member whistled daringly and was no doubt met by harsh stares by his immediate bystanders for prolonging the bands silence further.

After the band decided that things were adequately quiet the singer nodded to the guitarist who began picking softly at the thinner strings of his instrument. The sound was hypnotic to most audience members and for whatever reason they hadn't considered, they all imagined a circle when they heard this intro, a dark purple circle with an imperfect smudge and a few dots of purple near it like a coffee stain shaped bruise.

The other instruments began to play their parts softly, just enough to be noticed but not enough to be discerned from the noise the guitar was making. That was when he spoke.

"Why does the rain freeze me, when I'm already cold?

Why does my ego rise, away, when I feel bold?

Who is the prick who made me, what no one wants to see?

Why do people clutch their hearts and back away from me?"

Only after he sang the first line did the audience begin to sing along. They began timidly, being mildly concerned about interruption after being hushed, but the last line always had their listeners, so by the time he spoke it the audience was whispering along with complete confidence and stamina.

It was at this point the other instruments sang to life and the energy in the concert hall ascended all at once and took the audiences spirits with it.

"Why won't you show yourself right now and tell me," and the audience held their each respective breaths.

"Why I'm a monster!" he screamed and he screamed with his audience.

The chorus was repeated three times in three different but similar fashions and the moment the chorus ended the screams of the audience died down.

"Why do they hate me and drag me in dirt?

Do-on't they know-ow that ha-atred hurts?

Why do they stone me and innocent doves?

Why wont girls fuck me and teach me to love?" not he, not the audience missed a beat, not when he substituted syllables for additional vocal beats, and not when one particularly inebriated student puked obnoxiously close to the guitarists feet.

Unexpectedly, they skipped the second pre chorus, not many people missed that beat either.

Although Grave did, but he wasn't singing, Grave hated to sing.

"Why am I a monster!?" he screamed, but now he screamed louder, his signature voice so that no audience member could copy him or even touch the note.

The time for instrumentals came at once after the second chorus and the Singer looked ready to complete the song at any moment. Although there was only one moment that was fitting, that meant he needed to wait.

The instrumentalists seemed to be improvising at first but a regular listener of their music would have every note memorized and know that every moment was deliberate. Although Black Blood Vessel was new the main stream music scene they were already famous for the quality of their live shows –they lacked in quantity however and that was perhaps the only thing about them their fans weren't fond of.

It was not a solo, it was instead a collection of sounds from each instrument that built up and built up and developed enough suspense for the listeners to demand an ending grander than the previous choruses.

And with all the loyalty of a milk man they delivered. The final chorus was so loud that the speakers nearly exploded and that of course had the more elderly humans in the room nearly dropping their drinks.

The guitarists went to their respective racks of guitars –or arsenal might have been a better way to put it- and scanned them for more appropriate devices. The audience did not know it but the reason they were doing that was for instruments that were tuned differently.

Grave did not watch the stage. Grave knew the appearances of the band members well enough and he lacked the 'Horny Teenage Girl' interest that Joselyn was obviously runny with to lock his eyes on to the lead singer. He nervously cast his eyes around the room to the other audience members and it made him want to break something. The color of their hair dye and make up, the contacts they wore so proudly like gelatinous religious trinkets.

But mostly he looked at Joselyn, just like he always did. She, like most other audience members was swaying with the music. Although the poor excuse for a mosh pit might have tickled her interest they were far too far away from the stage to participate –unless if they used a high level destructive spell or nine to create a path but that was strictly forbidden in so many ways.

It was alarming and captivating how he could so easily make out her eye. Firstly because it was so dark in the room, but he could think of other reasons why it seemed so unnatural. Secondly a person's eyes –even Joselyn's—were not things that stood out like candle light in a black room the way novelists might want a person to think, eyes blended in with the rest of the body and if the body was uninteresting then the eyes would be too –though that was not to say that Joselyns body was uninteresting. Thirdly real people do not have anime faces, and therefore eyes do not attract and enormous amount of attention.

But Joselyns left eye –which had always distinctly reminded him of limeade—was attracting his attention as much as her butt and her breasts at that moment –and that of course, was saying something—it was like a glow sticks glow but without the glow, he wasn't sure how he could say it, but the color stood out in the darkness however dim it was.

It wasn't until he heard the crashing of the cymbals swirling with the cavernous vibrations of the bass when he realized that Joselyns distracting body parts had distracted him completely from the second song. He recognized the ending and then knew that it was only an instrumental –odd that the singer was allowing such a thing so early in the show- and he only shook his head to it in disregard. Grave had never been impressed by that instrumental anyway.

Joselyn gasped which made Grave snap his head up and wince when his neck muscles were pulled. He put his hand on the back of his neck and announced his pain with an unintentionally uproarious expletive which was only drowned out by the sounds of the crowd's hands and throats and lips.

Grave approached her –which took all but two steps—and tapped her shoulder. She jerked to one side and looked as alarmed to see him as she was to see what startled her. Grave knew exactly what it was, but he chose to play dumb and ask her, she would need to morbidly indulge her fright at least a little bit; it was her right as an adolescent.

He held her soft chin between thumb and forefinger and drew her face to his; she obediently moved her head knowing what he was doing and allowed him to turn her head to speak in to her ear.

"What is it?" he asked –yell/asked actually—and kept the oblivious look on his face sturdy when she looked at him like his tongue had just fallen out of his mouth and directly in to a bucket of Moomba's who were unhealthily enthusiastic about tennis.

"Part of his face is missing that's what it is!" she yelled and he almost didn't make it out.

He couldn't help but crack his grin; the tone she had used was so amusing with its panic since Grave would have thought that she would know about the singer's facial condition considering how much she liked the band.

Although he knew what she was talking about Grave looked to the singer with her and took in the display. The singer had thrown the hair that had been over his face off of it and behind his head in a haphazard fashion. The area where his left eye –and eyebrow—and a small portion of his nose belonged was consumed by the boy's forehead. Very few of the fans were surprised, but Joselyn was not alone, other yelps most of which came from the front of the stage could be heard before the third song was played.

The band didn't allow the shocked individuals in the audience to recuperate from seeing his face for the first time before they began the third song. The band gave the silent treatment once more, and once the audience had quieted as they wanted the singer spoke. His speaking voice struck something in Joselyn; there was something comfortably familiar about it.

"This song is very important to me, we usually only play it until the end of the end of our shows but I really want to play it for you now," he said no more, and an infamous piano melody reverberated in the room.

"Oh this is my favorite one." Joselyn said eagerly and hopped in her toes shortly.

Grave looked deceptively placid, she would not have known anything was wrong even if she were looking at him. In fact she almost didn't notice him when he pivoted on one heel and rushed as quickly as his walk would take him out of the hall.

Joselyn knitted her brows and followed him out, he only made it to the entrance to the quad –slash exit to the ball room now concert hall—before she caught up with him and stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. She had expected it to take more effort than that and bumped in to him softly. He only teetered a little, he was like an apathetic punch me clown.

"Why'd you leave?" she asked innocently sounding more like a little girl than any adolescent should.

Grave spun around gracefully and quickly, the motion was enough to remove Joselyns hand from his shoulder but not enough to keep it from landing on the other, he didn't notice. He stepped back from her for that obvious reason and struck her with a look on his face that was not the tiniest bit friendly.

"Joselyn when you looked at the audience what did you see?" he asked the way a commanding officer might order something, like spitting nails and lightning directly in to a cadets waiting eyes.

Joselyn looked less struck by his words than by his tone, actually the words almost bypassed her as she tended to disregard things she could not register intelligently.

"What are you asking me?" she asked sounding confused and equally hurt and did not bother to hide it.

Grave rolled his eyes and growled rudely. Joselyn restrained herself from scolding him not only because Grave was her friend, but because Grave was scolding her from the sound of things. To an observer of the conflict who might also be an observer of daytime TV this would look exactly like 'Timid Bruised Housewife Syndrome' but Joselyn knew Grave only got this way when someone had genuinely earned it, and if she had earned his scorn then she was prepared and pleased to be burned by his words.

"Did you see their make up? Their hair, their eyes, were you paying attention to them at all?" he asked sharply and accusingly, yet somehow he sounded like he didn't care what her answer was.

Joselyn quirked an eyebrow and thought for a moment, then blushed mildly when she realized she had only looked at the band. Grave pushed at her patience by rolling his eyes once more and simply pointed to a pair of daring cadets who hadn't passed the day before, now smoking cigarettes and talking idly about how stuffy the concert hall was.

Joselyn made her eyes go wide when she investigated them. She knew now, she knew what it was before she even walked in but she didn't understand until now the implications of the audiences appearance.

The devoted Black Blood Vessel fans dressed up for the concerts. They clad themselves in black like Grave, they put on make up for white faces like Graves, they dyed their hair so it would be black like Graves, and they wore special contacts to give them milky blue eyes… just like Grave.

But just for one night. She knew the following day these same people would mock him and fear him for his appearance again. Hypocrites. This was the reason Grave didn't want to go, he didn't want to see his criticizers impersonating him and singing along to popular music like it was nothing. Joselyn spun back around when she heard Graves retreating foot clicks. She power walked to catch up with him and nearly bumped into him again when he turned to face her once more. Grave opened his mouth again but before he could continue his angry interrogation she held one index finger to his lips which had a surprisingly sudden affect on him.

"I'm sorry," she began, and took the look in his hooded eyes for 'go on'.

"I wasn't thinking about what their audience does and I'm a bitch for forgetting about it." At that Grave wedged his index finger between her finger and his mouth signaling his turn to speak.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he said and they let their hands drop.

"I just wanted to do something publicly with you, you're my friend damn it!" she said smiling that smile and knocked his chin softly with her knuckles.

He surprised her yet again by softening already. Grave smiled back and tried to brush his fingers against her knuckles when her hand swung back to her side. Joselyn tried hard to keep her smile on her face. It was hard for her to believe Grave was softening so soon after being so angry; she had never seen him that disappointed with her before. She was not about to push her luck though, that was for sure. Graves mood swings could be furious and Joselyn knew that first hand, probably better than even Cody did.

"I'm not going back in there," he said keeping in mind that she might just want to get him back to the concert with her.

"That's alright," she said quietly.

Neither of their smiles wavered, neither did the quiet arguments and reverie they were sharing behind them. Joselyns grins always told Grave 'this isn't over' and Grave's grins always told her 'you're right.' They went back to their dorm and Joselyn lead the way, feeling the tiniest obligation to take charge after unknowingly betraying her friend, it was one of those little courtesies that were simply rude to ignore.

Back around the hallway to the concert hall Cody watched his friends go back to their room. Grinning like a madman in a candy store who had just found the marshmallows filled with blueberry jelly.

His tipsy date, a girl smothered with more white make up than was necessary and a bush of unnaturally frizzy hair took slow calculated steps to Cody, and was pleased when he gladly supported her with an arm around her waist, she swatted his hand when he tried to cop a feel but did nothing more, neither did he.

"Isn't she a dyke?" she asked bluntly, neither of their stares wavered but Cody's eyes hardened just a bit, and morbidly his smile remained.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"That's what my friends were saying about her," she shrugged indifferently and took another sip of pilfered syrup liquor.

"Well your friends are wrong," he said honestly and decided to leave the subject at that.

"Whatever," she shrugged again and forgot all about his friends in a moment, and then she finished her drink "C'mere," she said with a tipsy smile and licked his jaw line, she left a trail of light pink drink dye on his face.

Cody kissed the girl quickly and pulled her back in to the concert hall where the darkness and noise could hide their adolescent playtime from the authority figures.

Flash

…the next day after that…

Rinoa was asleep. Curled up on the still unmade bed she was still dressed in her doctor's coat and high heels. Her hair was still tied back and the small pair of glasses she had prescribed for herself was positioned awkwardly between the pillow and her nose.

He was asked very often –more by Irvine than anyone else—if she slept like an angel, due to the hype about her wings and generous nature.

Squall had decided long ago that, no, she did not. Rinoa slept like a human, because that was what she was. He knew that if she heard him say something to that effect she would become angry with him. Squall was not going to deny that Rinoa had a self possessed side, and that she liked the idea of being called an angel. And although Squall indulged her and addressed her as such when appropriate, he was not a person who ignored the truth.

Rinoa was just a human, albeit a very special human but a mere human nonetheless.

Squall approached the bedside she was sleeping on –his side of course, Squall didn't understand the concept of designating sides for the bed if you were only going to share the whole thing anyway, or rather if your partner would hog the whole thing—and kneeled in front of her. He had not turned the lights on so her face was a light gray color rather than the white/beige pallet seen in the light.

Now was the time he would normally undress her of her coat and glasses and other such things and pull the covers over her shoulders. But that would lead to pillow talk and he did not want to wake her.

He stripped out of his work clothes and continued walking in the silent fashion to the 'fabled' dresser drawer. He smiled at the thought of the name Rinoa had given it. He always displayed an opinion of stupidity for that name which wasn't feigned entirely. She only called it that because he never wore his old clothes anymore, but with his new plan to rearrange occupations times would change again soon.

The smell of feathers and leather came apart from the drawer so strongly that for a brief moment Squall thought it might wake Rinoa if it reached her. He carefully lifted each article of leather from the drawer like pulling books from a box and set each one on the floor at his feet.

The leather squeaked offensively when he pulled the pants on and once again he froze in place as if that could will Rinoa to remain sleeping. She snored softly –and somehow attractively—and his muscles softened back in to place at the sound.

After he buckled his allegedly redundant set of belts he shrugged on a T-shirt and his jacket without worry. He chuckled quietly and watched Rinoa as he did it, half because he was laughing at her and half because he was still worried he'd wake her.

More than once Rinoa had approached Squall about his extra belts, and he could barely contain his mirth every time she tried. He knew that the others made her do it because she was closer to him than they were. He knew that they had huddled together in the cafeteria when he'd walk away for whatever reason so they could plan and discuss strategies to approach him with the subject. Whenever they asked him it was akin to an interrogation. Each of them stared at him in waiting like he might give them the answer and if they weren't paying attention they'd never know.

The truth was his leather pants didn't have pockets and sometimes he needed a place to put his hands.

But they would never know.

Squall sneaked around the bed and lay on Rinoas side. It was only the afternoon but if Rinoa could sleep the midday away than he certainly could do it with her. He lay on top of the wrinkled sheets with his lips to her pony tail and let the scent of peony shampoo put him to sleep.

Squall was nearly jolted back to wakefulness when the old truck hit another bump on the rocky Centran plains it was driving on. Although the vehicle did have it's own kind of charm with its classic shape and its wooden gate in the back, and its dial radio it was not the object of attention.

Next to Squall in the back seat was little Quisty, crying her skin into a rash-like redness that threatened to become redder but could never match the shade of her mothers blood on her little dress. Not red enough to match the embers from cigarette burns in her hair.

In the front passenger seat was little Seifer –also known as Seify but he always put up arguments when ever that variation of his name was uttered and this was hardly the time—shedding minimal tears as per usual. He was fiddling with his thumbs and his fingers but mostly his fingers and tried as hard as he could to ignore Quistys crying, and his fathers drunken ranting, and trying even harder to not complain since his only reward for this was an awkwardness he wouldn't be able to understand even as an adult.

The young blond ones didn't want to do this, they wanted to fight with sticks like Seifer always wanted to do, so he could beat her more by making up rules to his advantage as they played than actually hitting her with the branch. Then Quisty would outsmart him with his own rules until he deemed the activity stupid once again and stomp off to the pond where Quisty would follow him.

They wanted to play the board games like chess like Quisty always wanted to so that Seifer could –bless his little corrupt heart—try to understand the rules and fail in the field of outsmarting Quisty. Then, predictable as he was he would knock the whatever pieces off of whatever board they were playing with and stomp away, just like he always did.

They wanted things to be familiar like their other visits with each other, but today was not familiar at all.

Seifer had been suspicious the moment he woke up that morning. He had opened his little green eyes to see his gargantuan of a father staring back at him, his lips parted slightly and his eyes a daze with nothingness and the burning water he stored under the sink where he thought Seifer would never look for it.

Their breakfast had been consumed in silence where talk of the cute blonds in their respective lives was normally held. All the while his father was staring at him and all the while Seifer held the stare like a person might hold a spinning basketball on their finger. He had to think of it as a challenge because it was on going but somehow he knew it wasn't one, because there was no glint or edge in his father's eyes, only darkness and dullness. He only saw disappointment, and in turn he was disappointed.

Seifer didn't even need to ask to be brought to Quistys house that morning, his father had simply ushered him in to their truck and brought him to the Trepes house.

Quisty had been surprised to see Seifer and for whatever reason Seifer had looked equally surprised to be there. They did little more than look at each other. Examining not for the first time one another's appearance and feeling somehow pleased by doing only that, and each feeling to embarrassed about it to tell each other about it. It was one of the few things Quisty didn't care to learn or examine too much.

At some point Seifer had the bad timing to sit down just as the commotion had started. Sounds that sounded nothing like their each single parents but could only come from them tore the halls and rooms of the small house. The children were only startled at first, and were not yet scared to huddle together, but they would soon. Even as children they felt like they should prove themselves even if it was to each other, but all humans have their limit no matter how stubborn or strong… or denying.

After a painfully long half hour Seifers father found the children clutching each other under Quistys small bed. He dragged them out with bloody and burned hands and pulled them kicking and screaming in to his truck.

Now they were in the middle of no where, some place in Centra that nobody ever visited, some place that probably didn't inhabit anybody.

There was nobody to save them from their caretaker.

Seifers father screamed obscenities about Quistys mother and looked too distracted by his insanity to notice his eyes were about to pop out of his sockets. He was an enraged dragon with one claw on the steering wheel and the other fumbling a cigarette, his screams were his fire and the fumes of vodka were his smoke.

Sometimes Seifer would wonder if his last name meant terrifying or something to that effect, because he saw incredible terror in his father more now than ever. Seifer knew even as a child that he could be scary, Quisty had made a face a few times to show him as much, and he believed that he could use and maybe even make it his second friend next to Quisty. But if this was what it meant to be scary he wanted no part of it, he didn't want to scare Quisty, he didn't want to scare himself, 'cause only boys did that and Seifer didn't want to be a boy anymore.

Seifer had always wanted to save people and boys couldn't save people, at least not their fathers.

The children couldn't see it but Seifers father certainly could and Spectral Squall was no different though the fathers head got in the way of his view. There was a familiar house in view but that was not what the elder Almasy was aiming for. The truck was closing in on a cliff, and through the fathers hateful sneer Squall could feel a sense of happiness. It was clearly selfish pleasure; his boy was not on his mind.

In that moment Seifer sucked in his sniffles and stopped crying. In his tiny child's brain he formed a plan, and for the first and possibly the last time Seifer did something heroic.

Seifer crawled over his seat and luckily went unnoticed by his father due to the screaming and the possibly blinding fumes of liquor he had been breathing in his own face all morning. Seifer unbuckled Quistys safety belt for her. He had to use all of the withering strength in his little arms to open up the door but he ignored it with his newfound hatred for family.

After a short sniveling discussion with Quisty he convinced her to pick herself up with equally brittle stamina and together they jumped out of the truck. Squall chose to join them for sake of a vantage point he was more interested in and noted that Quisty had passed out upon landing but Seifer had stayed awake, and he watched with dark edgeless eyes as his father was carried from the ground and in to the salt and water below.

It took Cid and Edea Kramer no more than ten minutes to notice the commotion outside of their out of the way orphanage and pick up the blond children. The children said nothing but snuggled gratefully against the adults who they didn't know but nonetheless had not betrayed them.

They would be fed orange juice and oatmeal cookies. And from then on Quisty would be more distant with Seifer. She would always see a portion of the man who had killed her mother in his face. And Seifer would act accordingly.

EG

Quistis didn't think she looked very attractive in her dress. It was a somewhat revealing red number that had been picked out for her by the self proclaimed 'Fashion Trio of Justice' otherwise known as Netta, Rinoa and Selphie. It only left her arms and her upper back to the elements, even her neck was hugged snugly by the thick fabric. Needless to say they were disappointed that they could only get her to try on one from the plethora of garments they had selected, but she refused to feel sorry for them, Quistis was not a woman to waste time on things she knew she wouldn't like. And Quistis would not even need to glance at a halter top or a mini skirt to know it was a waste of her time.

She had already handed out her congratulations like the novelty gifts they were and now stood alone next to the dance floor. Every year since her admittance to B-Garden Quistis could not recall one graduation ceremony –not even her own—where she had danced with someone. It had not occurred to her to ask someone on her own so she had always waited and waited and waited for nothing. Of course she had been asked by many a Trepie and perhaps it was shallow of her to always turn them down. But it was silly to dance with someone who you didn't want to dance with.

Quistis sipped her still full glass of champagne like she wanted to seem like she had not drunk from it at all. The new graduate standing next to her went unnoticed and so did her inviting smile and posture. The girl for some reason didn't dare to speak and eventually gave up and left Quistis to her seemingly untouched glass of champagne.

For the first time that night Quistis took notice of Squall and Rinoa. The graduations for the SeeDs were almost like their six month anniversaries in a way. They were the only two times of the year she could convince him to dance with her –or at all. It was a pity indeed Quistis thought, Squall was a skilled dancer but he ignored his ability with the same indifference a homosexual might ignore the loins of the other gender.

She also noticed that he was wearing his old leather number again but she gave it little more thought than that.

Wasted skills were such a waste… that word was coming to her quite a lot that night. She was a waste, and she was going to be even more of one if she had any more champagne. The bubbles blinked at her in response and sent to message that even a drunk wouldn't decipher. She shrugged defiantly and took a long swig of the drink and set the glass on the floor beside one of the potted plants.

Quistis decided that her love life was absurdly difficult. Why was it she was only attracted to men who were moody and/or wore masks? And why was it she only attracted fan boys and lesbians… and moody men who wore masks?

Quistis rounded the dance floor with her equilibrium a surprisingly stable frame. Her soft shoes made no sound on the rim of the dance floor and perhaps would have been drowned out by the music anyway had she worn the high heels her friends had insisted she wore.

She bypassed every occupant in the room and held up her pace only when she neared the exit. Where Savior stood statuesque by the entrance of the ball room like the guardian he was. He wasn't actually guarding the ball room, nobody was. He was only being an onlooker of the festivities, just a wallflower, just like she was.

Despite her silence he noticed her just as she rounded the corner to the entrance. He almost spoke to her but she beat him to it. She stood in front of him and seemed unaware of the people and activities behind her, and all of the adolescents of all shapes and sizes interested in dancing with her. She held her right hand extended before him and said a tad tipsily.

"May I have this dance?" She almost laughed saying it, ever the feminist she was she would rather have the man ask her to dance but she knew that was not going to happen, and that left her the one option.

Savior looked as puzzled as one mask bearer could and for a moment he did nothing. After contemplating her offer for a little bit, and after Quistis had shifted between three different aggravated facial expressions he answered.

"Not here," he said simply, and then he left.

Quistis followed him swiftly and didn't even look back to the ball room as the main event of the night –the actual graduation of the new SeeDs followed by a long winded speech by Squall—began. Normally she'd be in the ball room now, to congratulate the new SeeDs, Grave in particular. She knew how much he wanted to be a SeeD and she was truly happy for him but he didn't matter right now, there was something about dancing alone with Savior that seemed more important than that.

He had been a good student, but not thatgood of a student.

Savior stopped on the bridge outside of the Quad and Quistis copied him. She thought for a moment that he was not going to do anything and she made a move to turn him but he spun around then. Instead of peering down to her he looked and his hands, he slipped off one glove and then the other, and put each glove in his pocket. Quistis breath hitched in her throat and Savior noticed, but he did nothing to let her know that.

She took his hands into her own with strong grips and avarice. She had never seen his skin before much less touch it. And now she was free to rub their palms together and feel the warmth of his hands grasp hers from the angles that his fingers were too preoccupied to cover.

"Quistis?" he asked quietly, and gave Quistis a very easy time imagining the compassion or whatever emotion he might have had then.

"Mm?" she murmured distractedly.

"May I have this swim?"

"Huh?" she asked, oblivious like the cow on the train tracks.

He moved as quickly as he ever had on any of their missions. His arms were around her waist and before she began screaming and pounding his back Savior marched to one rail of the bridge and jumped into the water.

They weren't submerged for long. Quistis wriggled out of his grasp and struggled to the surface of the eight foot deep ring of water. Savior on the other hand allowed himself to float normally and laughed a machines laugh at Quistis who returned his mockery with a wet cats glare. Marcus's inherently imperious behavior was perhaps rubbing off on to Quistis, Savior half expected her to start licking the water off of herself and absently found that the image was comfortably easy to picture.

The death glare she was giving him clearly said that he had ruined the mood. And she was soon scanning the area for a way out of the water. Savior made no move to stop her not because he wanted her to leave –which of course he didn't—but because there was no discernable way out if one did not use a ladder or perhaps an ice spell to create a platform.

Quistis decided that very thing in moments and cursed out loud when she realized that everyone who would have a ladder was in the ball room. And that she wasn't carrying any magic on her at all, and as a PesticidE, Savior was not permitted to carry or use magic ever.

So why in the world had he brought them down there?

"You're enjoying this too much," she said with a mouthful of fake scorn.

He only laughed more, quieter now, but he laughed nonetheless. And with the sound of his laugh came tiny falls of water pouring out of his mouthpiece. One who didn't know the construction of the mouthpiece would be worried about electrocution in water, but really the mouthpiece was not technological the way a computer was, it was technological more the way a harmonica was.

"And all I did was ask you to dance," she crossed her arms and pouted which for a moment made him laugh louder.

"I can't have you catching me off guard now, if I start dancing with you then you'll probably hypnotize me and take this helmet off," he tapped his mask for emphasis.

"I only wanted to dance," she said assuredly, still pouting and still crossing her arms.

"But you still want this mask off of me, and humans scarcely fail to give in to temptation," he said philosophically with a nod of his head.

Quistis had to admit that no matter how much she enjoyed this mans company philosophy did not strike her as his strong suit, no matter how true his little quote may have sounded.

"You do realize that I will get you back for doing this right?" she asked with her teacher's tone which at that moment could not assist her as she was dripping with as much powerlessness as she was water.

"Anytime Quistis, anytime," he said carelessly and allowed himself to float freely under the bridge where Quistis had moved.

Quistis' hands reached out unexpectedly and pulled him to her hard and he found himself pinning her against the wall. Savior felt activity between them and found that she was unbuttoning his trench coat. He tried to push himself away but she held him tight and he only pulled her with him.

"I promise that I won't touch your helmet," she said honestly and as she had hoped he let down his guard and allowed her to finish unbuttoning the large garment.

Quistis had effectively changed the mood back Savior thought.

Beneath the coat he wore a generic white T-shirt, it looked fairly new and unloved she thought. She pulled the third pin from her hair and kept a firm grip on the belt around his pants to keep from drifting from him.

"Is this shirt very important to you?" she asked quietly and looking eager fidgeting with the pin in her left hand.

He shook his head and as soon as he did she put the pin in her teeth and unsheathed a slender blade from it. Underneath his mask Savior quirked an eyebrow. He was not surprised to see the weapon since he'd seen her use it on missions before, for lock picking and the like. But he didn't understand what she was going to use it for until she slid the blade from his neckline to his pelvis and unveiled his chest.

She re-sheathed the blade in the pin and replaced it into her miraculously still held up fishtail bun. As he had the whole time Savior did nothing. He just watched her and allowed her to do whatever it was she wanted as long as her hands stayed away from the switch on the back of his helmet.

His eye widened though when Quistis unzipped her dress and shrugged off the upper portion to leave it floating on the skin of the water like blood rippling from her belly. Quistis pressed herself against him so hard he thought he would later find a print of her breasts on his chest. Her arms were looped around him and if he didn't know better he would have thought that she was stuck there.

He put one hand against her bare lower back and with the other he stroked the back of her neck. Sometimes scratching the spot where the hairs were too short to be captured in her bun.

They didn't say anything else and almost fell asleep there. They wouldn't leave one hour, long after the commotion in the ball room would begin. For now they only relished the feeling of one another's skin they had been secretly yet openly craving for two long years.

EG

The six graduates were lined up. Standing erect and proud in their graduation uniforms, each one glowing with pride and or arrogance and because of her pair of pants Joselyn beamed brighter than any of them.

The Headmaster was nearing the end of the first half of his long winded speech –the speech that clearly bored even him, but Xu had a way with words and a liking for the classics and so the long speech stayed. After that segment of the speech the graduates would descend to the lower floor with everybody else and the remainder of the speech would then be uttered. That was the way it was every six months.

But for the six graduates this time was different if only a little bit because it was their graduation. They were the ones on the podium; they were the ones who had succeeded, they were the best of the survivors.

Those who were ignoring the Headmaster and those who were also ignoring their own resentment for not graduating themselves studied the new SeeDs and their attire. The graduation uniform was almost robe like since it was made for fit teenagers but was made with very much material, making the fabric swish and swirl when they moved. It was stark white and flared out at the waist, ankles and wrists. Around them they wore gold chains around their hips and one from shoulder to hip, and where those chains met their was a gold plated pocket watch with the symbol of the lion Griever imprinted on the top –allegedly the medic Mrs. Leonhart was responsible for that detail—the first five were much like Ruby dragons coming of age, showing off their brilliant new scales.

Grave was more like a Forbidden in a tutu.

He was the only one of the six graduates that was not paying attention to the speech. Even Joselyn was listening, though Grave noticed she was passing many glances at him while she did.

The looks she was giving him were unreadable to him. The same way a novel tease written in Centran wouldn't be understood by a Galbadian. Grave was not a man who received interested glances from women, so Joselyns inviting leers were interpreted as a small thing in her eye that she had not bothered to remove for whatever reason.

The people on the lower floor playing the part of the audience applauded at the climax of the first half and those who were sitting down stood. The Headmaster –dressed in an unfamiliar leather outfit that had made more than one student purr that night—gestured to the graduates. They bowed to the audience encouraging yet more applause and only when it died down did they descend the staircase into the pool of people.

The first four graduates stayed in the room for more champagne the finally of the speech. But Grave slipped out to the balcony away from the commotion where he would barely hear the applause. Joselyn was close at his heels but had not announced herself; she just followed him so they could speak privately.

Back on the podium Squall took a long drink of water and adjusted his jacket. It didn't feel quite right yet, there were creases in awkward spots from being folded for so long without being oiled and cleaned. He shrugged in his jacket once more and told himself he'd get used to it again. The old garment felt very reassuring on his shoulders. Squall grinned with an unusually devious smile that caught Rinoas attention from a distance though he didn't notice.

"Before I continue the mandatory speech I have an announcement to make," he said still smiling broadly while he took in the curious looks from both strangers and friends.

"As of now I…" he was interrupted by a golden spark at his foot.

He jumped almost a whole foot and caused a number of hushed isolated commotions in the crowd. He examined the area at his feet momentarily but saw nothing wrong. The crowd was watching him curiously and when he looked back to the crowd he immediately felt that he looked stupid.

"I, thought I saw something at my foot," he excused awkwardly and did his best to ignore the reaction and decided to worry about it later, he had an important announcement to make.

"Like I was saying," he re-began without the mirth from before. "As of now…" the spark came again but this time much brighter, so much brighter that everyone in the crowd could see it.

"Alright who's doing that?" he asked furiously into the mic, although it was perfectly feasible that there was a prankster in the crowd casting a small spell to annoy him, Squall could not think of spell that looked like a golden spark.

It was a questionable theory and possibly an impossible one since every member of the audience looked either shocked or distressed. He was not met with an answer. All he could hear was distress and other such sounds which did him no good. He relaxed, and waited for the crowd to quiet. He was about to speak again when there was yet another spark and then another. They were larger now and were bursting on all sides of him. The crowd was even louder than before but he couldn't hear them, the crackling and the sparking was too loud.

Squall prepared himself to roll off of the podium when he was struck by one of the bursts. It felt like a low level thunder spell but without the pain or the burns. A slim branch of light traveled through his spine like a worm burrowing a tunnel in the soil and soon the energy was everywhere. He felt the sensation of convulsion in his veins and his muscles and his bones and just before it was over he saw the golden light in his eyes, it was pooling in his eyes.

There was one final flash and it took Squall with it. The supposed spell had no after math. There was no remaining electricity, no bits of energy to fall to the floor and fizzle like grease in the frying pan. There was nothing, and Squall was no where to be seen.

Nobody said anything. Irvine had stopped hitting on Netta, Selphie stood behind a puddle of coffee and cheerios where her bowl had shattered, and Zell was still in mid-gulp of a frank and amazingly was still breathing right –as was Irvine whose neck was stuck in Zells grasp. And the students were still. The only sound for the time being was the bubbling of the champagne, and the breaths lodged in Rinoas throat just before she screamed.

EG

…meanwhile…

Fujin had been informed that morning of a mission she would start the following morning. She had already assigned a commendable PesticidE –recommended by Savior himself—to take her place in the Training Center while she was gone. She was packed already, or packed as in her own definition of packed; meaning her clothes were on her, her weapon was secured to her shoulder, and her wallet was in her pocket.

But she would not leave before it was necessary if she could help it. So she watched the water splash and tumble in the bright night. She watched the silvery moonlight ripple with her memories of that same light being compared to her own hair. By Seifer of course, back when he was still with them.

The mission was unlike any she had received before and she was morbidly excited by it. The time she spent at B-Garden the first year after the Ultimecia event was in Esthar cleaning the streets and sewers of Moon monsters. The following years had been miscellaneous and mostly boring activities; such as the liberation of Timber –which hadn't happened so much because of B-Garden as it had because of President Caraway—kidnap rescuing and assassinations. This new mission was interesting though, and she almost spoke more than three words when she'd received it.

She was to locate and bring back with her the Guardian Force Terra. It had apparently been a hush, hush type of mission that had been going on for years now, the mission being passed on from SeeD to SeeD as everyone before her had given up. And of course, with her borrowed arrogance she was much like her predecessors in that she was determined to be the last SeeD assigned to the task.

As arrogant as she was Fujin was still sensible. She understood why the others had given up and why she was expected to do the same eventually. The information on the Guardian Force was vague at best. All they knew about her were the things depicted in old murals in the Shumi Village caverns. She was the daughter of a woman and the Guardian Force Maduin and was depicted most often to look human herself. With wavy green hair and red garments.

Allegedly she had another form. But the Shumi's murals were of no help in that department. Her story was such that she had changed one day and flew off in a frenzy never to be found again. Her location was probably a mystery even to her father who they did have custody of. Fujin prayed as atheists pray that she would be the one to find the elusive spirit. Like her long lost friend, she relished bragging rights. But she was also curious about the Guardian herself. What was it to be the daughter of a human and a Guardian Force? Did she look completely normal or did she have little horns or flippers somewhere?

Fujin looked on the water once more. It would be good for her to take her mind off of the upcoming mission for the time being. She allowed herself little rest even when she wasn't working, so it would be wise for her to allow herself to relax before the mission. She would have plenty of time to ask Terra her questions when she found her.

Fujin felt a spasm in her foot but ignored it. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and sighed and was allowed one last look at the silver and dark of the waterscape before her body flashed and disappeared where there was no one to see the golden light.

EG

Whoever designed this graduation uniform is a transvestite.

That isn't to say that I have anything against transvestites, because I don't. These pants don't look like pants, they look like a skirt. And the shirt could be a dress if it was only a little longer. I know that I'm not a fashion critic, and I don't care, this outfit looks like a dress and because of that I'm amazed that Joselyn looks so happy in hers.

Criticizing other things I have found is an effect method of keeping your mind off of yourself. That is what I need right now. After listening to that leather bound leader of ours talk about me and my new comrades for a half hour I need to think about something else. I need something that could be worse than me.

And although this 'dress' isn't at all worse than I am it's all that I can think of right now.

I suck in the cool night air and let it all out in one wad of a breath. I've always loved the cold for as long as I can remember. I imagine that all corpses enjoy the cold since it is the moist soil we always place them in. Whenever I see images of bodies burning or being shoveled into a gaping hole together I swear I am not imagining the discontent on their faces. Even a murder victim must look adequately content on a cool linoleum floor. I can imagine a corpse with a face depicting horror but the flesh it self relaxing gratefully.

She's trying to sneak up on me but I know much better. I can't hear her because she has taken off her shoes and because she's controlling her breathing well. But I can feel her presence behind me. It's almost like she has an aura for I and I alone to identify. I feel my body gradually absorbing it like water soaking a rag. I swear that I am not imagining it, in fact I can almost see it, and I can almost see a soft blue light ascending like flames and spilling like water and carrying the tiniest white snowflakes that leave a pleasant burning sensation on my skin that goes as instantly as it comes.

"Hello Joselyn," I say and smile when I hear her huff in aggravation.

"How did you know I was here?" she asks like the villain wondering how the hero made it past the traps.

"A little snowflake told me." I say cryptically and silent, refuse to elaborate.

"Hmm, a snowflake huh?" she mumbles disinterestedly and catches me off guard when she touches my face.

She brushes the hair hanging over the right side of my face. Then she presses her cheek against my own and crushes her body against my back. Her arms wrap around my chest and one of her hands palms the area over my heart as if she wants to monitor my embarrassment.

Only for a moment I'm allowed to chuckle because her butt is no doubt sticking out behind her since she needs to lean down a lot to reach me like this, but the amusement that's keeping me from blushing is short lived. My blush probably looks like Strawberry Juice.

She snuggles against me and immediately I damn this uniform once more. I won't be able to face her with an erection like this. I wouldn't be able to tie it down with a chain for heavens sake.

What is it now, eighteen painful erections this girl has given me in two days? That's a record, I know it is.

"I still haven't forgiven you for jumping out of the whelp two days ago," she says and snuggles even more, intentionally making me aware of how her breasts are pressed against my back.

"Then I'm sorry," I say with a tone of mine that I don't recognize, or perhaps I'm just too preoccupied by how fast my heart is slamming against her hand.

"You'll have to do better than that," she whispers and her voice slithers into my ear so my blush darkens to Tomato. "But I'll think of something later," she says quietly after taking her face away from mine so she can speak directly in my ear, her tongue comes out with that last syllable and ever so slightly brushes my ear lobe.

She lingers there for a moment before she moves away; she peers around my face to get a look at my shameful eyes and my neck protests against me to let her look. The thing is I want a close look at her eyes as well, I want to think about how I might lick them to see if they taste like lime candy as absurd as that may sound.

She moves away from me and I stop breathing when her hand almost brushes the other reaction she got out of me and hopefully hasn't seen. Oh well, its dark out, maybe she won't see the white bulge in middle of the darkness, this damned white fabric standing out just like her left eye did yesterday.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She pulls a cigarette out of one her braids… clever girl… and lights it without the use of her lighter.

"How are you lighting that?" I ask with an embarrassing squeak that makes her smile at me and mutter 'cute' I thank the darkness for hiding my face as much as it might be, my face is no doubt up to Fire Truck Red now.

"I'll tell you another time." She says arrogantly and simply swallows the smoke from the cigarette.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" I ask expecting an answer, and I am disappointed when she's silent, I was hoping for another cutting remark…

Joselyn has nothing to say to that and she simply smokes and watches me in the dark. I only glance to her occasionally and curse silently whenever she looks down. After she finishes her cigarette she flicks it away and watches as it perhaps in hope to see the butt explode when it touches the rotating rings that allow the establishment to fly. She shrugs when it vanishes and she approaches me again.

"I want to ask you something." I only nod for her to continue. "I've heard other people ask you this before but you never give them the same answer." Damn it… I don't hide the disappointment on my face because I want her to see it, I thought that she was different from everybody else. "Why do you go by Grave?" there it is, the dreaded question that I thought she was going to leave to rest.

I don't say anything; I scowl and watch the water and the moonlight. I do my best not to move at all and thankfully my erection subsides even though she's so close to me. I imagine that my face isn't flushed anymore since the welcome feeling of coldness has retuned to my skin, ironically thanks in part to Joselyn. She waits for a long time, and without looking at her I can tell that she's sad, but she deserves it, I don't want to tell her.

Eventually she strokes my hair with one hand and leaves me alone on the balcony. I take a deep unnecessary breath and something in me forces me to imagine the feeling of ice-water and soil, and a cold feeling on my back not quite as unpleasant as the coldness of Joselyn's absence that is there now.

"Because I belong in one."

Black Blood Vessel is a fictional band. 'The Limerick' believe it or not is a real book, try to find a copy if you like that sort of thing, I think it's highly entertaining. Another highly entertaining read is a Seiftis oneshot called 'What you're actually thinking' by 'RubyTuesday13', I recommend it.